


The Sweet Life

by GreatWhiteShark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Breeding Kink, F/M, Food Kink, Knotting, Vaginal Sex, blowjob, cunninglus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16954491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatWhiteShark/pseuds/GreatWhiteShark
Summary: Prince Lotor gets a sugar addiction that makes him crave more than sweet delicacies.





	1. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple bite wound changes Prince Lotor and his strange urges pull out a rather…interesting side of him.

Prince Lotor was a man of many things. He was intelligent, cunning, cautious; all traits well-suited for an heir to the Galra throne. Being raised under Zarkon and his iron rule on the empire taught the young prince several skills that shaped him into the commander he was today. Lotor was ruthless where it counts, he knew how to play his cards, and had no qualms with taking a life in a battle. He had class, he could control himself as well as his generals, though right now? Right now, maybe there was an... _urge_.

On his throne, his leg was shaking up and down in slight impatience. All his generals took notice of his odd composure, but it was Acxa who decided to approach him. “ _With caution_ ,” she reminded herself. If anything, perhaps the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins from their last mission? Or the pressure of Voltron encroaching onto Galra territory was beginning to weigh in on him? It could be a number of things she had no insight about, though that didn’t stop her from continuing her job as being HIS general.

Once she was a few feet away, her sharp eyes noted how his damaged armor was missing here and there. She also noticed...a  _sizable_ bite mark on the inside of his arm. It looked infected, though Acxa couldn’t remember seeing any animal attack him on their recent mission. Yes, there were swords clashing and guns a blazing, but not a beast in sight. She cleared her throat, pulling Prince Lotor out of his thoughts as his piercing eyes honed in on her slender face.

“Sir,” she began with the utmost respect laced in her voice, “All prisoners have been boarded and we are ready for take off. We had few casualties in the battle and they are being treated in the  _medbay_.”

Maybe her voice emphasized “medbay” a little more sternly to try and pressure him to get his arm looked at.

“Thank you, Acxa. Chart a course to Diad’ix galaxy. We will be visiting a little planet called Cyleus,” he ordered with a slightly strained tone due to his teeth grinding together, “That will be all.”

In all honesty, he needed rest. This new... _disease_ coursing through him was troublesome and he would not risk his health when his plans were JUST starting to fall into place. There was a doctor there, a good doctor he knew very well, who could help him with his predicament. What problem was it? He certainly couldn’t outright tell his generals when this was clearly something he could handle on his own. Simply put, he had a  _craving_. An  _urge_ for his next fix. An  _addiction_.

A... _lusting_ for something sweet. For candy, for milkshakes, for sugar, for  _something_ to satisfy his sweet tooth.

The man was actually sweating in restraint! He pushed his hair behind his ears, trying to recall where this strange sickness came from. The mission started out well enough. His plan was to rescue you and your crew, one of the unlucky coalition soldiers who got captured by his ruthless Galra commanders. Mind you, got captured by one of his Galra commanders who did  _not_ see Lotor as a prince nor heir to the Emperor Zarkon. Due to this and his status, Prince Lotor had to stage the rescue as if he was part of this father’s enemy attempting to free captured war refugees.

It worked, but there was a problem. To you, all you knew was that another Galra was going to take you captive. Sell you on the black market? Enslave you until death?  _Eat you_? You didn’t know, so of course, you fought. You fought tooth and nail, not once believing that your savior had pure intentions with you and the other captives. In the midst of it all, between fighting you and the sentries trying to foil Lotor’s plans, he had managed to grab you in a strong chokehold.

“ _Stop_ , I am not your enemy!” he remembers yelling, trying to reason with a stubborn person like yourself, “Cease your struggling lest I-”

And then you  _bit_ him. Bit him like an enraged animal ready to tear through life and death just to survive. You didn’t relent when he let out a pained grunt, nor when he started yanking your hair to pry your teeth off of him. From an outside point of view, perhaps this would’ve been comical to see. The  _great_ Prince Lotor struggling to subdue a defenseless prisoner in his convoluted rescue mission. The pain was intense and he knew you could taste his blood flooding your mouth by now. It seemed as though you were ready to chew through his entire arm!

Prince Lotor couldn’t have that. So, in a reckless decision, he brought the hilt of his sword down harshly on the back of your head and successfully knocked you out. He would salute you on your resilient hold and how you had actually managed to WOUND him. Barbaric, true, but it worked. His generals and crew gathered all the prisoners they could and brought them upon his ship. Lotor personally dragged, er, carried your unconscious body into your own metal cell. He half debated about ordering one of his generals to put a damn muzzle on you like the dog you were.

Lotor’s eyes snapped open after his thoughts ended. Did you perhaps have venom or was your saliva deadly to his kind? That could explain everything. It wasn’t like he didn’t get his current vaccinations up to date...but there was no vaccine that could make him immune to everything.  _Fuck_ , he wanted honey. He wanted to  _gorge_ himself on the syrupy concoction,  _dunk_ his entire face in a pot of the gooey gold. The thought alone had his mouth salivating and he had to cover his lips so no one saw him drool. Prince Lotor suddenly stood up from his seat when his unruly mind began breaking his inner will.

With hastened footsteps, Lotor reached the doors to your cell and commanded the guards to let him through. He folded his hands behind himself, both to show his authority and to hide his still tenderly, wounded arm. Lotor couldn’t show you how much your bite afflicted him. As he stepped through with his head held high and menacing boots announcing his arrival, the first thing he heard was...munching. So, you were awake. Good. Now he could finally interrogate you and demand to know what venom you injected-

Oh...his nose twitched. He could  _smell_ it from here. It was sugar.  _Very_ potent sugar. His keen sense of sweet smelling delicacies was heightened and he couldn’t help but lick his lips in want. Control was waning and he must! Resist!  _Temptation_!

You stopped eating your last meal and stared up at the mighty Prince Lotor. Stiff, stock still, but eyes quite focused on your huddled form. No, not you entirely...he was eyeing the chocolate smudged all over your mouth. It was right there, on the corner of your mouth, and he could just-he  _wanted_ to just lick it off you, maybe even nibble your lower lip to imitate the texture of a firm chocolate bar. Lotor swallowed thickly and he suddenly realized it was slowly getting harder to control his breathing. With every breath, he could taste the sweetness in the air coat his tongue, tease him,  _beckon_ him to give in, to satisfy his crazed hunger.

And you, you weren’t moving. You were prey, just waiting there, oblivious to whether or not you knew of the little problem you oh-so-generously bestowed upon him. You warily watched him kneel before you, the sudden action making you jolt back a bit in fear. He was unpredictable, it showed in his dangerous eyes. Lotor leaned closer to you, just shy a few inches from your lips, and you feared making any noise in front of him. Was he testing you? Scrutinizing your every miniscule expression? Is this an interrogation trick?

“What have you  _done_ to me…” his voice was thick, heavy with unbridled hunger as if he was dying of thirst.

Something changed then. Prince Lotor sounded...weak. Strained. He was holding back and part of you worried he was going to snap any second now. A plan formulated in your head. Now was the time to escape! He was injured and if you were quick enough, you could hit him across his temple and make a rush for the exit. You could take out the guards quick enough if they were distracted and...and what was that sliding down your arm?

“W-what are you…?” your question trailed off when Lotor pinned you with a heated stare.

The Prince trailed his hand down to your wrist, gripping it firmly with his fingers, then brought it up between the both of you. Halfway unwrapped in crinkled foil and paper was the delectable bane of his existence: chocolate. He didn’t know Hershey’s, but the smell...it made him  _shudder_ in want. He couldn’t hold back any second longer and, in the privacy of the cell, he finally indulged his hidden, shameful desire. Lotor began gorging himself out of the palm of your hand, panting  _heavily_ and with no coordination of his princely title whatsoever.

All you could do was stare in shock at the wild look behind his eyes. The way he scarfed down the delicacy as if he had found the forbidden fruit of the Gods was both arousing and frightening. Frightening because THIS was the Galra heir to the throne, the same throne that subjugated their prisoners to the  _worst_ possible torture imaginable. He was eating so fast and you did see those threatening fangs of his bite a little too close to your thumb. Half of you worried he would eat your hand while he was at it.

And yet, the way he was licking your fingers made you flustered. His warm, slick tongue wrapping eagerly around your index finger and those wet, sucking noise were absolutely  _filthy_ in the silence of the cell. Was he aware of how erotic his raw hunger looked right now? Did he know that the more he lapped messily at the melted goo between the crevices of your fingers only made you shiver in odd delight?

“Oh…” he moaned lowly, almost growling, before finally breaking away after indulging himself for a few seconds longer than what was considered proper, “That was... _divine_ …”

Was his urge sated? Absolutely not, if his half-lidded, smoldering gaze was anything to go by. Prince Lotor was still lost in his desire for the sweet, foreign taste of chocolate and his next fix was currently on your lips. Without sparing a second thought, he cupped your face with his hands and kissed you in feverish need. He still had that accursed craving coursing through his veins and his mind was clouded to the brim with this delicious kiss. Lotor paid no attention to his overheating body at all, nor did he reign in control over how improper it was to, ah,  _indulge_ his prisoners.

You had no time to even process how a prince from your enemy was currently giving you the best kiss of your life. The heart in your chest was beating so fast, you wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it with those elegant ears of his. The way he moved his lips sensually over yours had your mind in a tizzy. Was this how he broke his prisoners? With the art of seduction? It was...definitely a possibility now that you got to experience it first hand. Lotor’s body was so firm against yours and his palms felt like a warm, toasty fire in the chill of deep space. It was difficult to pull away, even as his tongue lapped lazily at the corner of your lips.

“Give me  _more_ …” Prince Lotor tugged at your lip with his fangs, drinking in the pleasurable groan that escaped your throat, “I  _demand_ it…ah...”

He was panting like a dog now, pressing his towering form more insistently against you in hopes that somehow, you could grant him his desperate demands. Before you could answer, his mouth was upon yours once again, those dark eyes of his clenched close in strain while his tongue slipped through your lips. Lotor could  _taste_ it, taste the lingering sugar coating your wet muscle, and he found it absolutely intoxicating. He felt  _drunk_  off of you.

Prince Lotor wanted,  _needed_ more, but it was too late before he realized his body could not handle it. The addicting sugar, the fever that came with this foreign infection, it weakened him to the point where he had to break the kiss. You were finally able to catch your breath in the haze of lust, yet Lotor seemed exhausted. Sickly, even. Now, his skin was clammy and before you could get a questioning word out, the mighty Prince Lotor let out a pained grunt, swayed slightly...and suddenly passed out.

“L-Lotor?!” you were crushed under him, trapped under his body that felt like was exerting more heat than usual, “Prince  _Lotor_?!”

Did you...just kill the coalition’s enemy with a  _sugar rush?_


	2. Sugar Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Lotor has finally found the only sweetness that can keep him thoroughly satisfied.

**  
**“My liege, we have arrived at the requested coordinates. Shall I prepare your pod?”

“No, that will not be necessary, Acxa. I will travel by foot…and alone.”

“Sire, are you sure that is wise?”

 _“Considering your condition,”_  is what Acxa wanted to add. Ever since the shaman from that odd planet cured Lotor’s fever spell, which shocked all of the generals into the next century, Acxa has been adamant that he stay as close as possible with the group. It was only by pure mercy did the generals spare the prisoner’s life, the prisoner that infected their leader with some dangerous, harmful disease. The prisoner that was released by his orders a month ago.

Prince Lotor glanced  _sternly_ at Acxa and that was all she needed to know he was resolute in his decision.

 

* * *

 

The sickly sweet air surrounded Prince Lotor as he stepped off the main road, stars and moons above barely illuminating the path before him. His nose twitched when the scent of his desires wafted through the wind, reminding him of cookies and cream, but he rolled his shoulder to steel himself. No, he would not unravel so easily this time, not when he nearly risked his own health for the sake of a  _sugary treat._  Though, he couldn’t deny that the past events have led him with a permanent fixation that occasionally made him **oh, so**  hungry.

Prince Lotor likes to think he has more control over himself now.

The gift in his hand was heavy and tempting, but it wasn’t for him. It was for you and he hoped to the galaxies you would not turn him away. Was he out of place?  _Yes_. Did he deserve your forgiveness?  _Maybe_. Would it be best if he just left without closure?  **Absolutely not**. He was here for a reason and Lotor plans to leave the planet with what he wants, or rather, what he deemed that he needed.

Prince Lotor knocked softly on the wooden door. A few seconds in, his ears twitched at hearing the shuffling of chairs and the turn of a knob. It parted soon enough so that your curious eyes shined up at him in unguarded innocence. It only lasted a split second before  _realization_ and  _fear_ swarmed your expression. He was tall, towering over you and shadowing your form from the moon light. And him? Lotor’s neutral, panther-like stare focused on every inch of your face.

That time in the cell reeled through your mind and those flight or fight instincts revealed a third option in the face of danger. **Do nothing.**  Your knees locked up at the fact that Prince Lotor, one of the  _most_  dangerous beings in all known universe, heir to the ruthless Galra Empire, your kidnapper and savior, was right at your front door. A chilling shiver dropped in your stomach as your thoughts shot to one conclusion as to why he was here:  _he was going to kill you._

“Please, I mean you no harm,” he spoke softly, cautiously, though he did not imagine this being his first words to you, “If you would allow-”

Your legs may have betrayed you, but your arms sure didn’t. You  **slammed** the door in his face, or at least, you tried to, if his boot wasn’t wedged between the small opening. Lotor was fast and, apparently, two steps ahead of you. His large hand flattened against the surface of the door while his other…his other brought up _the gift._  Instantly, you stopped spitting expletives at him and stared in surprise at exactly  _what_ he was offering you.

“Is that…is that a-?”

“Yes. It is a chocolate bar.”

Prince Lotor straightened up, trying  _so_  hard to show he was in charge here. He was the one sparing you, but that softening glare behind your eyes told him otherwise.  _Be humble_ , boy. Remember your _manners._  Oh, if only Dayak could see him now, appeasing the source of his troubles with a chocolate bar. Lotor would consider himself lucky you haven’t screamed for help by now. Then again, was it  _stupid, blind luck_ that landed him in trouble in the first place?

You narrowed your eyes at the Prince before you, looking for any hint of malice or trickery. When you saw none behind those pleading, cosmic blue orbs, you bit your bottom lip in hesitation.  _Obviously_ , he didn’t kill you on site.  _Obviously_ , he was somehow apologizing with a chocolate bar as a gift. And  _obviously_ , he was waiting for your answer. You didn’t like this one bit and something warm stirred in the pit of your stomach.

Finally, you released your hold on the door and allowed him into your humble abode.

 

* * *

 

 

“You  **shouldn’t** be here,” you bluntly stated, laying down a cup of hot chocolate topped with the perfect form of whip cream before him.

It was so, simply put,  _weird_  seeing the Prince Lotor sitting at your dining table. He looked out of place, though the fact that he wasn’t showing any signs of nervousness was impressive. It was also impressive he hasn’t tossed himself on you like before. Part of you worried about the past repeating itself. Lotor fainting, the guards rushing in and carrying him out. Those women glaring daggers at you as if you were in the wrong here. Then they had just… _released_ you and the other prisoners.  

“And yet, you have not alarmed the town of my presence,” he pointed out, bringing up the still steaming cup and sipping the liquid within it.

It took all of his  _ **goddamn**_ willpower not to moan. It was so sweet,  **so** delicious, tasting that hot, creamy chocolate coating his tongue. Lotor had kept himself off of it for a while and returning to the forbidden flavor after all this time was, well, it was like a drug. And just like a drug, it wasn’t  _enough_. He closed his eyes to reprimand himself, _focus on the goal_. Do not blow all your hard work now over a simple cup of hot chocolate, you  **addict.**

“Hmph,” you sat across from him while cradling your own cup between your hands, “Look, you-you actually saved me and the others back then. I don’t know why, nor do I really care for your reasons behind it.”

Lotor peered at you over the rim of his drink, feeling warmth flush over his body, from his mouth, to his chin, to his chest, all the way down to his  **crotch**. This was sweet, yes, but he wondered why you smelled even more succulent than his drink. His eyes locked onto your lips, his own tingling at the memory of how you tasted, how you  _easily_ let him take what he wanted. Part of that primal side of him wanted to do it again. It whispered to him, one more time.  _Just once, Lotor_. That’s all you need for now.

“You ate my last chocolate bar, but…” glancing down at said bar laying in the center of the table, you sighed, “Why are you really here? Come to interrogate me? I don’t have information to give you.”

Prince Lotor pulled his lips away from the cup, “No, no interrogation, I assure you. I came to apologize. About before, back in your cell. It was improper of me to…lose control like that.”

His chest ached while your brows shot up in, well, in surprise.

“I am deeply sorry for taking advantage of you like that without your permission. And I am here to figure out what it is that had made me addicted to…” he paused, actually considering his words, “To  _sugar_. Nothing I eat seems to be satisfying my cravings and even now, you offer me this drink, but it is not enough.”

You remained silent, a bit baffled internally about what Lotor was telling you. Sadly, you had  _no_ fucking clue how you could help this poor man. You were no scientist or doctor, you were just…you. Glancing around your home with furrowed brows, you tried to think of ways to cure his ailment. Perhaps it was your doing that made him like this, but that didn’t mean you had the remedy for his poison.

Standing up suddenly, Lotor watched you walk to your cabinets and pull out a tray of cupcakes, all decorated cutely with frosting sitting atop of each one, “I don’t know what happened to you, but if it’s sugar you want, maybe more would help. An  _overdose_ , kinda. To shock it out of your system?”

The logic behind your words seemed sound. Perhaps too much of a good thing will simply make him sick enough that he would  _NEVER_ want it again? He cautiously picked up one mini cake, not even realizing his tongue had sensually slipped past his lips to wet them in anticipation. Lotor may not have noticed, but  _you_ sure did. That ping of arousal tickled your groin, reminding you of that amazing kiss from the prison cell. That kiss which  _haunted_ your dreams every night since you were released.

“Let us try this,” he nodded at you in thanks and, with careful claws, peeled away the paper wrapping.

He ate one in two bites, those dangerous, sharp fangs glinting in the low light of your home.  _You sipped your drink slowly_. Then, Lotor stuffed another in a single, wide-mouthed bite.  _You gulped your cocoa down faster,_  wondering when watching him eat so enthusiastically became  **such** an arousing show. It wasn’t until he had ate the entire tray of cupcakes did you really start to feel too warm in your seat. He was even  _licking_ each finger as if trying to get as much sugar as possible in his body. With every swallow, you saw the lump in his throat bob with the motion.

Prince Lotor’s energy was… _high_. So,  **so**   ** _high_**. His leg was bouncing in restlessness and his eyes were blown wide, searching the table for any more of that sweet, sugary goodness. He was not full, not even  ** _close_**. He was not satisfied and, if anything, now he simply  **craved** something more  _potent_ , more  _creamy_. More… **you**. At that thought, his body flared up in raw, primal want and his predatory eyes locked with yours. Lotor could  _smell_ you from here. You, too, were aroused in the most passionate of ways and it pulled a low growl deep from within his chest.

Lotor wanted to  ** _dig_**  in.

“Did it work-” yet your question was interrupted by Lotor standing straight up from his chair, his lethal claws latching themselves in your table.

 _Now_ , you scrambled up to your feet, chair clattering to the floor noisily as he began breathing heavily. Before you could even blink, he made one large stride to your side and gripped your wrist in his hand. Not enough to snap your bones, but  _just_ enough to tether you on the spot and prevent you from pulling away. Though, did you  _want_ to? That glint in your eyes, that one outweighing the fear, he knew you felt it, too.

“No. No, it did  **not** ,” he leaned his towering form over you, dwarfing your smaller frame with a sickening sweet smile on his lips, “And now I know  **why** …”

Prince Lotor lowered himself to hover his face right over the side of your head, inhaling deeply and  _shuddering_ in ecstasy. You were so  **damn** sweet. His nose tickled and now, with a salivating mouth, the urge to lick you like a lollipop became stronger with every breath he took. You could hear him panting, just a bit, directly into your ear. That heat he gave off tinged a deep flush to your cheeks and you brought your free hand up to place onto his chest. Not to push, no, but to…to  _touch_.

“ _ **Permit me**_ ,” he purred, well aware that his baritone voice alone made you shiver in delight, “ _Permit m_ e and allow me to taste you once more, sweet thing.”

The eager nods you gave him was all the permission Lotor needed to clamp his teeth over the delectable curve of your neck. He groaned, nearly feeling his eyes  _roll_ to the back of his lids when your surprised yelp rang in his ears. With sloppy, wet  _slurps_ , he lapped at your offered skin, tenderly, as if apologizing for being too rough…or for not being rough enough. The Prince caged your body to the table, even going as far as lifting you to lay on it so he could enjoy his dessert properly.

“ _ **Yes**_ …” he hissed while the tingling satisfaction glazed over his tongue, “You taste so… _so very divine_ , my little cupcake. I just want to  **eat** you up in one bite.”

Now, those words went straight to your crotch and you parted your legs willingly for him. Lotor immediately rutted himself happily between them, needing desperately to feel your body flushed with his overheating one. Though, it didn’t feel as  _painful_ this time. It felt like he had all the energy of a sun within his very being. He loved it. Welcomed it.  _Embraced_ it. Lotor’s lips moved to kiss along your jaw before finally,  ** _finally_** , sealing with yours in an obscenely, sweet kiss. Opened mouth, messy, and  **desperate**.

Before you could delve yourself deeper in the lip-lock, his large hand slithered down the front of your body. Over your clothed chest, lower to your soft belly, even  _lower_  within the hem of your undergarments. You broke the kiss as soon as his finger rubbed  _ **oh so**_  firmly over your slit. A taste, he said he wanted, and he will get it. Your wetness coated his digit, but it did not deter him from nibbling your bottom lip like the greedy Prince he was.

“Lotor!” you gasped, little shocks of pleasure sprinkling over the sensitive skin he was toying with.

He pulled his hand from between your thighs and  _immediately_  shoved his wet finger in his mouth, groaning and swirling his tongue to get every intoxicating drop of your flavor, “By the  **stars** , I need more of your sweet,  _sweet_ honey…”

It looks like his wish would come true. Lotor would get to  _gorge_  himself,  _dunk_ his entire face in the space between your legs. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t spare a second, so with great reluctance, he pulled away from your body and hastily worked at your clothes. His body yearned for you,  _ached_ for you, but nothing was more greedy for you than his  ** _wicked_** tongue sliding over his bottom lip in warning.

“Lot-Prince Lotor, your  _claws_!” they were so sharp, you worried he would accidentally dig them into your thighs out of pure lust.

“Worry not, honey bee,” he reached behind himself to grab the fallen chair and promptly sat upon it, pulling your thighs closer to his face like he was about to devour a dessert, “It will be my  _tongue_  that will make you scream into the night.”

Dazed, you raised your head to watch as Lotor angled your hips up, your knees over his shoulders and open sex exposed in the most  _delightful_ of ways. His eyes spared a few seconds to look at you, look at your shiny lips, look at your button barely peeking out, like a forbidden fruit just ripe for eating. Prince Lotor was drunk off your  _sweet_ musk and he selfishly delved his wet,  **warm** tongue up and down your folds like licking a grape Popsicle. Oh, it was the  ** _sweetest_** taste he ever had the chance to indulge accompanied by the  _ **sweetest**_ cry of his name from your lips.

“L-Lotor,  _oh_..!” your cream coated his slick muscle and you could hear him slurp what didn’t stay in his mouth, “Mmf-wait, I.. _Prince_ Lo-Ah!”

Oh, he could drown right now and die happily indulging in his nectarous treat. Lotor smoothly dipped in and out of your opening,  _teasing_ you in the most delightful of ways, before moving to his next gift. His ears twitched with every  _moan_ , every  _curse_ , every  _gasp_ , when the tip of his tongue circled around your little nub. Yes, he was well aware he was drooling like a  **starved** beast, but can you blame him? He found his fountain of youth and he would  _gladly_ drink from it until the end of his time.

Though, now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t mind keeping this all for  _himself_.

You were squirming in his hold,  _writhing_ under his powerful hands cupping you open like a bowl of sweet vanilla milk, yet the pleasure coiling in your gut  _refused_ to acknowledge your aches. From your position, you could see Lotor move his head along with his ravenous licks, those loose locks of his adding even more soothing sensations when they tickle your thighs. You didn’t know what to do with yourself except brace your hands on the edge of the table and  **let** the Prince feverishly take it until the he has had his fill.

However, you don’t think you could last much longer, especially when he used the broad, flatness of his wicked tongue to lap from your opening up to your sensitive clit. That  _definitely_ pulled a moan of his name from your mouth as he continued to eat you out. This…Your  **essence**  was so much more delicious warm and straight from the source. Lotor couldn’t suppress the heat from darkening his cheeks at the raw, appetizing taste of you. He was  _addicted_. All around him was your honey, he could smell it and swallow every drop of the savory richness coming from your body.

And then came the  **teeth**.

“F- _FUCK_!” you arched your back the second his fangs tugged your nub, feeling how carefully he rolled it between his teeth as if he was playing with a cherry, “Lotor,  **Prince Lotor**! Please! Oh,  _stars_ , sa-save me…!”

That devilish tongue flicked once more over your trapped button, toes curling at the throbs of pleasure pulsating  _stronger_ and  _stronger_ in the pit of your groin. Did Lotor know he was a messy eater? That you could hear every muffled  **slurp** when his tongue stroked your deepest parts? Or that the mix of your slick and his salivating mouth was dripping onto the table? Yes.  _Yes_ , he knew and he relished in the knowledge that all this was  _absolutely_ needed to satisfy his sweet needs.

Moon and stars, you were so  _warm_ , so  _exquisite_. So  **fucking yummy.**

“P-Prince, my  _Prince_ , I-I’m going to…!” his hands felt the way your thighs were shaking, quivering and ready for release if he so chose to grant it, “Pl-Please, Lotor,  _please_ ,  **please**!

Show mercy, have you not had  _enough_?

Lotor pushed his tongue as deep as he could within your twitching walls, his nose at the perfect spot to rub the over sensitive button. He  _curled_ his strong, slick muscle, searching for that one pressure point he knew would have you calling his name out  _over_ and  _over_. You were sweating now, so close,  _so damn close,_  and when he finally found it, Prince Lotor squirmed his tongue harder to grant you one of the most  **explosive** orgasms possible.

“ _PRINCE_ **LOTOR**!” you screamed, electrifying ecstasy coursing through every vein, every nerve of your body and making you spasm in his hold.

It was one  **damn** erotic sight to behold, if he does say so himself.

Your inner walls milked his tongue while he drunkenly watched your face contort from overwhelming pleasure to flushed exhaustion. Lotor’s eyes glazed over when your entire body became slack in his arms. After lifting his face from your sex, you saw exactly  _how_ disheveled the man really was. A string of cum connected from his chin to your opening and it didn’t seem like he minded it at all. His lips, soaked and  _shimmering_ with your cream, was parted slightly so he could pant like a well-fed dog waiting for seconds. But his eyes,  _oh_ , they looked at you as if you were a  **damn snack**.

“My  _sweet_ …my  _honey_ …” his voice was hoarse and utterly sated for the time being, “Look what you have reduced me to. I want nothing more than to have you for  _every meal of the day_.”

Prince Lotor’s eyes softened while he began purring in contentment, his overly warm cheeks rubbing the inside of your thigh so keenly, it was almost adorable. If you weren’t thoroughly disorientated, you would’ve noticed that possessive glint behind his wet lips. For now, all you could do was try and catch your breath and prepare yourself for a second course of dessert, if he so wished for more.


	3. Creampie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Lotor wants more sweet, creamy goodness.

“And this is called...a  _creme_  pie?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a specialty from home. Two pieces of soft oatmeal cookie with a thick,  _sweet_  cream in the middle.”

 

Prince Lotor arched a sharp brow, staring at this new delicacy you placed before him. It wasn’t a  _cupcake_ or _hot chocolate_ , so of course, he was suspicious. It certainly didn’t look appetizing at first glance. He switched his gaze back to you, clad in your cute frilly apron and oven mitts safely covering your hands. It was...quite an  **adorable** look, if he does say so himself. Lotor was lucky enough to have you all for himself.  _Literally_.

 

Lotor did NOT kidnap you from your home. He... _convinced_ you to join his side, so to speak. Convinced you that he was not the bad guy and that he, well, he needed your  **help**. Weekly, sometimes  _daily_. Sometimes  **more** than once per day. It wasn’t quite said out loud, but the relationship between you two has become steady, against his general’s advice. So, here you were, back on Lotor’s ship, but this time not as a prisoner.

 

This time, as his  _ **personal sweets chef.**_

__

“I want cupcakes.”  
  
  
“Lotor-”

 

“ _Prince_.”

 

You let out an exasperated sigh, “ _Prince_ Lotor, I guarantee you, this is just as good. You have to give it a try. It’s  _sweet_. You like  _sweets_ , right?”  
  
  
Yes, he sure  ** _fucking_**  did. With his daily sugar intake, sure, he doesn’t quite lose control like before. It was more bearable now to handle. That’s what he told himself  _every_  time he pulled you aside to taste your cunt in the dark corners of his ship. Or when he would slip into your bed in the dead of night,  **arouse**  you with licks and kisses, before delving his tongue **deep**  within your wet walls. Lotor was sneaky, you learned, but also cautious about trying new things.

 

Like this creme pie.

 

“What flavor is this?” Lotor finally picked up one carefully, eyeing the cream laid between the two cookies.

 

“It’s brown sugar and vanilla - ” you suddenly paused your explanation when he  _squished_ the cookies together, pushing out all the gooey goodness, “Hey, that’s  _ **not**_ how you eat it!”

 

But no, he did not stop there. He ignored your indignant complaints with a flippant side glance. Lotor wet his lips then stuck his  _devilish_ tongue out to  **lick** along the cookie’s seam, swiping the heavy drop of cream before it had a chance to fall. Those nebulous eyes hooded as he spread the ooze over his lips and within his mouth, lathering it  **all** over his teeth just to get the maximum sugary effect. Lotor let out an inquisitive “ _Hmm_ ” of approval before doing it again. Lapping up along the space between the cookies, but never  _actually_ eating it.

 

He  **knew** you were watching, too. Watching with slowly pinkening cheeks and arousal rising in your crotch. Lotor could  _smell_ it and it brought a sly grin on his sugary lips.

 

“It needs  _ **more**_ cream.”

 

_I need more cream._

 

“Well, if you ate it like a  _normal_ person…” you grumbled but obeyed the Prince regardless, taking your mitts off and grabbing the can of cream, “Open.”

 

Now,  **that** was more like it. He obliged and opened his mouth, waiting for you to just  _pour_ that excessive cream into his snarky pie hole. Though, when you sent him an exasperated look of “ _Really?_ ” he stuck his slick tongue out to  _tempt_ you even further. You would give in, you  **always** give in to his demands. Lotor stepped in between your legs to trap you against the counter with his palms flat on the surface, then  _finally_ , you granted him that first  **sweet** drop of cream to glaze his lips.

 

Lotor moaned,  _pleased_  but not yet  **satisfied** , “Ah...That’s _it?_ ”

 

“ **Yes**. You know your limit.”

 

You took such good care of him, keeping track of exactly how much sugary intake he can have. And, yes, normally he would listen, but with you flushed against him, blushing and  _trying_ to discipline him, well, Prince Lotor’s urge for something sweeter began rising to the surface. He hooded his eyes at you with a calm smile on his face. Almost... _ **too**_ calm. Before you could speak another word, he shoved his lips against yours and forced his tongue down your throat.

 

First thing you could taste? How  _intoxicatingly **sweet**_ he was.

 

The kiss was short lived, but you had been taken back in surprise at how forward he was being.  _Especially_ in an open public space like the kitchen. A string of his saliva connected both of your parted lips and now your cheeks were fully tinted in that  _adorable_ hue of red. Lotor could  **see** the arousal in your eyes, though when he leaned back, it was replaced with...confusion. 

_How in the world did he manage to snatch the can of cream from your hand?_

“Lotor…”

 

“ _Prince_ , my dear.”

 

“ _Prince_ Lotor,” you growled, he was not fazed one bit, “ **Don’t** do it.”

  
  
“Why, what ** _ever_**  do you mean, darling?” he had already stuck the tip of the can in his mouth, leaned his head back, and pressed down, the whizz of fluffy whip cream  _stuffing_ his cheeks.

 

“ _Lotor_! Give it back - ” his free hand pressed against the middle of your chest, keeping you just out of reach, “Ugh, you  **stubborn** \- you  _know_ that’s a bad idea!”

 

Lotor greedily gulped the sugary delicacy without any regard, Adam’s apple bobbing right in front of you.  _Stars_ , he could already feel the honeyed effects grow in the pit of his stomach. He accepted what sugar does to him and would gladly use it to pleasure himself and  _ **you** ,_ given the chance. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, making you stop your squirming to meet his heavily lidded eyes glazed with loosely-caged lust.

 

Again, that tongue seductively licked his lips, a bit of white cream still visible, “I have a better idea,  _my sweet_.”

 

The Prince eased off you, can still in his large hand, then he expertly unclipped his half-cape resting on his hips. It fell to the floor and your eyes widened when you saw that he was  _already_ bulging in his pelvic area. Lotor saw, much to his  **amusement** , how you could  _not_ take your eyes off him. He palmed himself,  _hissing_ at the teasing sensation, and let his warm face flush all the way up to the tip of his ears.

 

“Release me,  _honey_ ,” he ordered, voice low but  **very** clear with his demand, “And I will grant you a _**special treat**_ **.** ”

 

You shouldn’t, not  **here** , and yet your hands were already scrambling in hastened desire to pull his garments down. Lotor knew  _exactly_ how to get you just as riled up as him. It infuriated you sometimes, but right now, you wanted this special treat. You mentioned it to him once after a particular hungry night of cunnilingus. Now, your mouth felt full of saliva, practically  _drooling_ when his ribbed shaft was finally free from its restraints.

 

“Oh, _thank you,_  my dear,” he cupped your chin, breathing a little heavy, then brushed his thumb over your lower lip, “Now, on your knees.”

 

Your quick glance to the door pulled a wider grin on his lips, but you complied and slid down onto your knees. The tip of his impressive length was  _already_ leaking copious amounts of precum and, from here, you could even  _smell_ his sweet musk. Opalescent, faintly pink, it almost reminded you of strawberry and vanilla cream. Lotor’s sharp gaze was locked on you, locked on how big his twitching cock was in comparison to your small mouth.

 

With one hand on the counter’s edge, Lotor sprayed a line of thick cream along the top of his member, right over those ridges, “ **You know what to do.** ”

 

Prince Lotor on a sugar high was so  _deliciously_ creative. You wet your lips and caved to your sickly, sweet desires. Hot tongue out, you first lapped up the bead of pre-cum threatening to spill from his slit. You dragged along over his wine-colored crown and flicked that wet muscle up,  _swiping_ a small amount of savory cream. Not enough,  _not yet_ , but it did make Lotor bite his bottom lip at the  **sinful** show you were giving him.

 

His eyes could see how your saliva had already shined his tip and, when you went back for one,  _two_ more searing licks, he  **finally** let out a guttural groan. Lotor’s claws peeked in arousal and his ears tickled when you sloppily took his cock in your mouth.  _Stars_ , he was getting drunk off the sight of your lips alone. You were trying so  _desperately_ to engulf more of him, but he knew his girth was going to strain your jaw.

 

And he was  **right**. It was a huge stroke to his ego when you could only pump your lips up to  _ **half**_ his Galtean length. Your brows furrowed, wet suckling noises greeting both of your ears, as your hand came up to  _barely_ wrap around what was left of him.  _Too much_ , he was  _ **too**_ big for you, and every time his cock head hit the back of your throat, you could feel how he would  _thrust_ just a little deeper. Just to see how much you could  ** _really_** handle. Lotor panted above you, moaning sporadically but not nearly loud enough for your liking.

 

Fuck, he was scrumptious.  _Sweet_ , like the finest nectar of all the worlds.

 

Then, when you gave a particularly hard squeeze, he ordered, “Lean back, sweet star.”

 

_Let me paint those beautiful lips of yours._

Lotor’s brows were knotted, but his shaft was not.  _Close_ , but he needed a  _little_ more, and he  **knew** what his body wanted. When you leaned back with a wet “pop”, you kept pumping your hand along the ribbed dick, mixing your spit, leftover cream,  _and_ his light pink cum together. The Prince hunched over slightly, eyes tightly blinking while that twisting coil in his gut grew  _stronger_ and  _stronger_. It was the view of you opening your mouth,  _waiting_ for him, that finally made him flinch and climax with a feral snarl.

 

He growled  **deeply** , as if warning any other males near to back off, _this one is mine_ , then shot one, two, four loads of his hot, sweet seed on your lips. Most landed inside of your mouth while he groaned wantonly above you, chest  _heaving_ from the first orgasm to wrack his body. Yes, the _first._  The day was not over. He was  ** _not_** done. And after a quick glance down at the cum pooling in your mouth, Lotor allowed a  _devious_ smirk to grace his flushed face.

 

“Open  **wide** ,” you did without shame and Lotor took the can of whipped cream, pointed the tip in your mouth, and pressed down.

 

You flinched in surprise, not only because Lotor’s cum was already much  _too_ sweet for your taste buds, but now the additional, gooey cream filled the space in your mouth, “ **Swallow**.  _All of it,_  little cupcake.”

 

A little whine escaped your throat and you clamped your lips close, gulping everything mixed in your mouth in one go.  _Stars_ , Lotor’s pupils dilated even more at your obedience, and just like that, his raw,  **animalistic** urge came back tenfold. In one strong grip, he grabbed the front of your clothed chest, apron and all, then hauled you atop of the counter with a grunt. A show of his strength, how he will soon take  _you_ , and those innocent, lust-filled eyes looking up at him will  ** _not_** deter him.

 

“You  _biting_ me on that day was the  _best_ thing to happen to me,” he quickly disrobed your lower half, somehow finding the apron quite arousing to leave on, “Allow me to return the favor, you delicious,  _sweet_ , **creme pie.** ”

 

“Lotor - My  _Prince_ \- ” your hands scrambled up to hold onto his shoulders for support, but mostly to secure his body towering over yours while he tossed your legs over his shoulders, “Please, I - I need you. I need your…”

 

“My  _what_ , sweetling?” Lotor teased, grinding the bottom of his length along your soaking wet slit and making your shiver in pleasure.

 

“Your  _tongue_ …! I need your  **tongue**!”

 

“Oh, but like I said,” he angled his leaking tip at your welcoming opening, “It needs  ** _more_** cream.”

 

Prince Lotor’s engorged member  _plugged_  into you in one firm thrust as he grunted along with your high-pitched whine. You clenched your eyes close at the  _impossibly_ tight fit, teeth digging into your bottom lip to try and distract you just a bit. It did  **nothing** , but oh,  _Lotor’s_  teeth worked. His mouth latched onto the curve of your neck, fangs tracing the skin threateningly, but his mind was  _completely_ flooded with thoughts of  _mine, my sweet, so warm, so wet_. His tongue lolled out to  **greedily** lap at your flesh, wild grin present on his lips.

 

“F...Fuck...L... **Lotor** ,” your eyes rolled back at the heat, stars, the sweet heat, “My lord, my  _Prince_ …”

 

“ _ **Yes**_ …” he allowed two, three slow pumps of his hips, then he began kicking up the pace, “I will  _ **never**_ tire of your taste, your  _smell_ ,  **stars** , your  _honey_. It drives me  _ **wild**_ , my darling.”

 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning hushed, stuttering whispers along with how hard he was  _hammering_ into your stretched cunt. He gave you no mercy, but you clearly did not need it. Your wet walls accepted every ridge of his girthy length with a lovely, squelching clench and Lotor,  **oh** , ever the greedy man, wanted  _more_. He was vocal with his unrestrained groans, his absolutely pornographic  _growls_ , and they sent electrifying arousal straight to your core.

 

“You -  _unf_ \- you  **ruined** me for  _any_ other,” he bit you hard, fangs  _puncturing_ and pulling a surprised yelp between your wanton cries, “No one else... ** _no one_**  else, I want  **no one** else.”

 

Tears of raw pleasure beaded at your eyes and your nails dug into his armor, needing  _something_ to grip onto while Lotor took you like an  _unhinged beast_ of a man. He was panting like one, too, but you were no better with your expression sugar-coated in ecstasy. His hard shaft was  _tunneling_ into you without skipping a single beat, both of your sweaty bodies lost in the rushed,  _ **carnal**_ wants of each other. You writhed against him,  _arching_ and  _rubbing_ for more of him,  **more** of his deliciously,  ** _large_** cock filling you whole. And then some.

 

Lotor’s protruding knot was  _tapping_ at your already stretched sex.

 

Your eyes widened at the feeling, but Lotor only  _chuckled_ at your hesitant gasps and moans from his little intruder. Satisfied with leaving a mark upon your neck, he leaned up to look at you in the eyes.  _Oh_ , you were  **wrecked**. Drooling, gaze  _lost_ in pure,  _unadulterated_ pleasure, face  _sweating_ in a healthy lover’s flush. It made his dick  **twitch**. To see you so off the hinges while he kept  **hammering** his pelvis at an  _increasingly_ faster pace was an image he will not soon forget. A hand came up to grip the back of your neck and pull you in for another  _heated_ kiss, lips wet and tongue  _squirming_  down your throat.

 

 _Stars_ , you were an absolute **hot mess** , but he was no better.

 

“Take it,” he ordered through gritted teeth, “ _Take_ it, my -  _ **ah!**_  - my sweet…! You can do it,  **take** the knot!”

 

Euphoric pleasure was tickling his groin,  _teasing_ him,  _just a bit more, just for me._ Lotor’s breath mingled with yours as he pressed his sweaty forehead against you. His large knot tapped more  _insistently_ against you now,  **excessive** fluids stringing you to him in a hasty, almost  ** _urgent_** , piston of his hips. His climax was coming and, judging by the tightening of your inner muscles, so was yours. Lotor angled himself better, now allowing his body to rub at your little, wet, firm button. It made your thighs  _squirm_ in his hold and bring scrumptious moans of his name out of your lips.

 

“Fuck... **Fuck** , my  **Prince**!” you wailed, crying out in overwhelming pleasure, “Please, yes!  _ **Yes**_!”

 

That was the answer he needed. His teeth flashed at you in thanks and he buried his face in the comfort of your shoulder,  _grunting_ in overexertion as Lotor fucked you  **harder** ,  _faster_. Then, you felt  **it** , right when he released that loud,  _rumbling_ growl like before. His firm knot forcefully  _squished_ into you with a wet, slick  _pop_ , and he came with a guttural  **roar**. It was the warm strings of his cum  _pouring_ into you that forced one of the  **strongest** orgasms you experienced to scream his name,  _cry_ for him,  ** _My Prince!_**

 

 _Stars and moon above_ , you were gripping him like the most deadly vice,  _milking_ him for that sweet,  _ **sweet**_ cream. Shuddering from the ecstasy flowing through his veins, Lotor did not  _dare_ move as more of his Galtean cum overflowed the inside of your twitching cunt. He was  _overstimulated_ ,  **spilling** as much of himself as he could within your body, your  _delectable_ body. How much could you  **really** take? Judging by your honeyed whimpers and quivering form, you could handle it. You could handle  _more_  of him. Lotor’s thick manhood liked that dedication and he kept himself  **locked** to you,  _filling_ your womb until his pink,  _gooey_ cum oozed through the tight space of your conjoined bodies.

 

“Come to my chambers tonight,” his voice was scratchy, but still  _oh so_ alluring as he subtly nuzzled your ear, “Wear the apron.  **Only** the apron.”

 

Then he would  _taste_ the only creme pie he ever really  ** _wanted_**.


End file.
